


The Unstable Element

by muldersfoxhole



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Slow Burn, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4999744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muldersfoxhole/pseuds/muldersfoxhole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Picard: "...To do so would introduce an unstable element to a critical situation." - the only thing I took from that wretched TNG movie </p><p>Leaving behind a legacy tends to be more a burden for your descendants than something beneficial to them. She didn't have much to go on, but Helen knew that she had some big shoes to fill....and so far she felt like a toddler in a size 12.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hokay so, here's the Earth--wait, no. 
> 
> So this MIGHT be a series/trilogy-thingy??? I don't know yet. Just to be safe: take the 'Slow Burn' tag seriously until further notice. 
> 
> The main reason I'm writing this is because Wesley's proverbial bae and he hardly gets any love. LET ME LOV--  
> Anyway...have fun, leave some feedback, and try not to cry too much. (Foreshadowing??? Hehehehehehe idk yet tbh)
> 
> -MFH

The sound of the door sensor caused her head to languidly rise from the pillow. _"Ugh,_ who is it? It's nighttime, you know."

"Just because it's dark out doesn't make it nighttime, Helen." The masculine chuckle made her head fall back onto the pillow with an irritated huff.

As the heels of her hands rubbed her eyes awake she slowly rose up from the bed, _"For Pete's sake, Will-_ \--lights: seventy-five percent." Now sitting upright on the edge of the mattress, Helen let her eyes adjust to the lighting. "Come in, Riker."

The Commander sauntered into the disheveled quarters with arms confidentiality behind his back. As he gathered the mess that only seemed to multiply from last visit, Riker met eyes with the girl who was still rubbing her own. "I see your room is still a disaster."

With a bleak chuckle she stood up and revealed to be in only a black crew neck and underwear. "You'd think Picard's Number One wouldn't use the word _disaster_ so lightly." She then made her way to the bathroom.

Riker looked away bashfully from her attire, or rather the lack of it. "Have you seen this room, Helen?" He was quick to turn his aversion into something he could work with. "I mean--" he squeamishly picked up a sanitary napkin wrapper, "Really?" He showed it to her as she stopped short of the facility entrance.

It almost appeared to adversely affect her until she leaned against the doorframe. "Oh, could you get that for me? The trash can's over there." Helen pointed to the overflowing bin that had similar wrappers scattered all around it. As he gave the bin and her a look of disgust she snuck into the bathroom, "Thanks, Will. You're a peach."

As the sound of running water spilled from behind the ajar door and into the rest of the accommodation, Riker found himself actually cleaning up the mess from the garbage can. "Why don't you ever clean your quarters? Do I have to remind you how much you don’t _need_ to be on this ship?"

Helen was practically scrubbing the demons off her face with antibacterial soap, "And yet I'm somehow still here." As she rinsed and dried her face her following statement was muffled by a towel, "I think a messy room is just a makeshift obstacle course." She stuck out her clean but flushed face from behind the doorway, "Don't you?"

"Save the tumescent remarks for your next term paper, Helen." Riker simmered as nonchalantly as possible.

Helen let out a laugh as she combed out her short hair, "Hah! Spoken like a true Command major. Stick to what you know best, Rikey. For your sake more than mine."

As she exited the bathroom after one final glance in the mirror, she bent over and began putting on a pair of trousers once scattered on the floor. She fell against the wall once she lost balance putting a leg in. While she fumbled with her pants, Riker couldn't quell his concern. "Aren't you going to change your shirt? Put on deodorant at least?"

Now attired with pants, she picked up a strangely designed monochrome sweater off her desk chair and showed it to him. "A clue, Sherlock!" While putting it on over her head and t-shirt she could sense Riker's brutal eye roll. Helen straightened out her sweater, "I'm also wearing 72-hour deodorant that I put on yesterday," her monkeyshine met his glower, "and I really hope you can still do math on your own."

Riker folded his arms in an admit of defeat that only she could understand. "Listen, Miss Helen _Kirk_. I didn't get you up for my own health. You've got a checkup with Doctor Crusher and work to do in Engineering."

"My middle name's Earth--just so you know for next time. Anyway, I have an _assignment_ requiring the use of the Engineering room. You don't actually see me wearing yellow, do you?" Helen shifted her focus to stick her communicator onto her chest.

"Spoken with the accuracy of a Sciences major." His smirk was almost ghastly.

She sent him a glare while packing up her day bag. "You'd be surprised how lost we'd be without someone keeping accuracy." The small backpack bore the Starfleet insignia and was constructed of tightly woven, fire-retardant material. It was Riker's incentive for her reapplying to the Academy.

"I'll save my rebuttal for another time," Riker shifted in place and watched her take count of all her things. "I believe Wesley is working on something similar to you down in Engineering today. Maybe you two could--

"Hell no." Helen slung the bag over her shoulder, " _Fuck_ no. Not on this ship and not in this lifetime." She locked eyes onto his concerned gaze.

 _"Come on,_ Helen! You're both practically studying the same thing and your last name--

"Makes me interesting?" She concluded his sentence for him. Helen gave an exasperated huff and started towards her quarter's exit. She then stopped parallel from the Commander and turned to face him. "I think even a numbskull like Wesley can tell you Physics-- _especially Astrophysics_ \--isn't like Engineering as much as people like to believe. And just because I'm related to Admiral Kirk doesn't make me as prestigious as Admiral Kirk." She then continued towards the door and halted close enough to keep it open. Riker's eyes could be felt on her back, "In fact, I'm pretty sure it makes me even _more_ of a disappointment."

The doors sliding shut behind her seemed to serve a more metaphorical purpose than a practical one in Riker's eyes. He couldn't help looking towards the nearby wall at her Spock poster. The rendering's expression appeared more scrutinizing than logical today.

Helen had never met her grandfather and barely knew of her father before his sudden death. William was the only real father figure in her life and he already thought that Wesley was a big enough cross to bear. The two teens finally bridging their not-so-vast gap would be a win for all parties involved. Unfortunately, Riker didn't know if she was aware of her grandfather's spite against no-win scenarios.

At least it sure as hell didn't look like it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me way too long to write for a second chapter. I'm afraid the pace isn't gonna improve any time soon...please pray for me. 
> 
> We'll meet again at the bottom of the entry and exchange notes or whatever. 
> 
> -MFH

“That is a no for the  _last_   time, Wesley Crusher!” The Chief Medical Officer glowered at her son from across the desk.

The boy was practically off his seat, “But _Mom--_

The sound of doors sliding open caused Wesley to spring upright.

With both sets of eyes on her, Helen was prickly with her entering remark. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.” She kept her focus towards the doctor.

Beverly was quick to deter suspicion, “No, nothing important,” she threw her son a look, “Please Ms. Kirk, have a seat. I do have a job to conduct here. Much like my son does.”

Wesley made a beeline out of the room with an almost inaudible huff. Helen turned to watch him and his orange sweater leave. She then threw a thumb towards the doorway and faced her doctor with a smirk, “ _Kids._ Amirite?”

“You’re a year younger than him, have a seat.” Crusher appeared to be looking up files on her PADD.

She placed her bag on the floor next to the chair and sat down as comfortably as she could manage. “Sorry. I kinda forgot this isn’t really the place for jokes,” Helen gave the room a nervous look around and then met eyes with the CMO, “I haven’t taken any cannabis supplements today.”

“It’s nice to see you taking something seriously for once,” the doctor placed the PADD onto her desk and gave Helen her full attention.

“Remember that I’m not your son, Doc.”

“For the most part you are, Helen.”

Helen’s nostrils flared,“This is sickbay, not the witness stand. Now are we going to do a check-up or what?”

“Considering this checkup is mostly psychological, you’re not doing too well so far.” Doctor Crusher smiled as her patient rolled her eyes.

Helen slouched into her chair as irritatingly possible. Blowing her reddish-brown bangs away from view she grumbled, “Who died and made you Psychiatrist of the Year…?”

Beverly fell back into her chair with more elegance, “How has your medicine been affecting you these past few weeks?”

Helen sat up more respectfully in her seat. “Besides keeping my demons at bay and my appetite regular, nothing you haven’t heard before.”

“Demons? Could you explain that terminology?” She leaned onto her desk with keen interest.

“Is that a trigger word in Psychology for Dummies? It’s as flimsy as the metaphor itself. I think they call it an idiom or something.”

“Helen--

“ _What?!_ Is the weed starting to fry my brain? Do I have lung cancer? No and _definitely_ not. It’s been millennia since cannabis was first considered medicinal and here we are still checking if I can still count past ten. And for the record, I can count to a hundred just as well as anyone else on this stupid ship.”

“We’re not here to see how well you can count, honey,” the doctor cautiously watched her patient's brows unknit and shoulders unhinge. “Your test scores have us in the know of your intelligence.”

 _“We..._ ” Helen chuckled bitterly, “ _Us_ …” she shook her head, ”What’s next, _they?_ Believe it or not, I’m not some lab rat that likes vague terms for Big Brother. And just for my sanity: would you be more or less concerned if I bombed standardized tests?”

 _“You know I can’t_ \---Listen, Ms. Kirk. These trials and tribulations are as petty and painful for me as they are for you.”

Helen shook her head once more with a beam of hidden malice, “We both know that’s not quite true.”

The CMO rose up and glared down at the teen and quickly headed towards a nearby corner to keep her distance. “Commander Riker is right, you know,” she turned to look at Helen, “You don’t have to be here.”

“Is that a _threat_ , Doctor Crusher?” Helen tilted her head towards her, “It’s not on the grounds of being professional, at least.”

Beverly took two steps closer to her, “For a moment I wanted you to befriend my son because you both seemed to be on the same wavelength. Now I hope he never has to talk to you.”

She sprung from her chair with hands raised, “ _Jeez_ , Momma Bear. Cool it. I’m sure your little cub has the smarts to steer clear.”

The doctor smoldered, “Don’t tell me how to raise my son.”

“I guess that’s my queue to leave. Nice seeing you, Doc.” Helen then grabbed her bag and bolted out of sickbay.

* * *

 

A THC-infused gummy bear’s head was ripped off by Helen’s teeth as she studied the assignment's instructions on her PADD. “Really? I have to play with petty quadratics just after fleeing a fire-breathing dragon?” She stuffed the rest of the cherry-flavored candy into her mouth and passed the PADD onto her newly freed hand. With a swallow she overheard the Turbolift switching chambers. “No rest for the wicked, I guess…”

The voice that emanated from her communicator made the girl nearly jump out of her skin, "Riker to Kirk.”

Helen frantically caught her breath as she pressed her badge, “You're lucky that I’m _alone_ in this elevator, Will.”

“Trust me, so is everyone else. Now I have something to tell you."

“What part of ‘Communicator Badge’ don’t you think I understand?”

“Must you _always--_ it’s obvious where Doctor Crusher was coming from. We have to talk later.”

 _“Sooo_....you’re talking to me now to tell me that we have to talk... _later?”_ Helen’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“Conference Room at 1700 hours; don’t be late. Riker out.”

_“Riker, I--_

The line of communication was cut off. Helen sighed as the Turbolift entered its second chamber change. She nearly put her PADD back into her bag but was stopped by locking eyes onto its insignia. The backpack appeared to be more and more of a sinister bribe than a mild incentive. “Might as well have given me the Evil Eye, _William_.”

The Turbolift slowed to a stop and the doors shifted open. Reapplying the bag back over her shoulder, Helen exited the lift with PADD in the more casual grip of her left hand.

“Good morning, Acting Ensign.” A Vulcan in Sciences blue greeted her with the notable salute.

She halted and returned the Vulcan hand gesture, “And a good morning to you, _Ensign_.” She leaned into her emphasis.

He lowered his arm back to his side, “Please make sure to format your settings once you are complete with your assignment. You are not the only one using this equipment.”

Helen lowered her arm with a sly tilt of the head. “You know it’s not logical to hide malice in between your words, Surak.”

She could almost see the tips of his ears turn green. “Please leave promptly after your assignment’s completion, _Acting Ensign_.” Surak stomped off in the only way a Vulcan could stomp off.

“And a ‘Live Long and Prosper’ to you, too.” Helen sent him a foul face from behind. She made her way to a workstation while giving him a final grumbling glower, “ _Asshole_.”

After logging into the database, Helen started to enter the information for her project. “ _Oh boy_ , quadratics! _Woohoo!_  Pretty sure the only thing getting foiled today is my motivation. _Hell to the yeah!”_

“None of those statements make sense either figuratively or practically.” A calm tone of befuddlement caused her to lock eyes onto the source.

“Data,” she began with more ease, “I can see your information on satire is still beta. Maybe the next update will patch that.” Helen smirked to insure her intention was facetious.

“I agree, Ms. Kirk. However I don't believe my software can be...patched." The android seemed to be checking if his claim was valid.

"Just an old software joke, dude. I thought you'd get a kick out of it." Helen was quickly met with confused eyes, "I thought you would find it funny, Data."

He looked away as if her meaning could be clarified on the floor. "Hm," Data returned his focus to Helen, "I believe that this concept of humor is more elusive than I once thought."

"Yeah, well you're not the only one with their work cut out for them." Helen gave her screen an apprehensive glance.

"I apologize for interrupting your education,” he followed her eyes to the screen and glanced back up at her. “I had only come down here to help the Lieutenant with his status report. I shall be best to take my leave. Goodbye for now." Data began to exit the premises.

"Data, wait." The android turned to face her as she continued, "I have to ask you something. Just...just come here for a moment." Helen gestured for him to come closer.

"Yes, Ms. Kirk?" He leaned in at the notion this was a rather secretive inquiry.

"Put a cork on the formalities, man," her tone grew hushed, "Anyway, I just want to know if you've seen Wesley in here today. You know, Wesley _Crusher?"_

Data nodded, "Yes. I have. I believe he's still here at the other end of the facility. Over..." He extended a pointed finger that landed on the boy in his orange sweater, " _there_." The android looked at her with a quick beam of accomplishment, "Do you want me to get his attention for you?"

Helen followed his arm and quickly shook her head, "No, but thanks anyway Data. Just keep this between you and me, okay?" She plastered a reassuring smile.

He hesitantly returned his hand to his side. "Oh...okay. Well I must be heading back to the bridge."

"Go do whatever you gotta do, Data. I'll be fine down here." With a final mutual nod the android left the girl and made his exit.

Helen gave the doors of the Turbolift Data entered a fleeting glance before focusing on the work in front of her. With an exasperated sigh she logged out of the program and headed towards the end near Wesley.

* * *

 

_Circuit Failure. Please try again, Mr. Crusher._

Wesley ran a hand through his hair, "Ugh, _really?!_   Why must you be so stupid!" He slammed his finger on the setting reset button and melodramatically fell back into his chair with a wailing groan.

"Trouble in paradise?" His hands slid off his face to reveal the voice belonged to a tentative Helen Kirk.

Wesley was quick to adjust himself upright, "It's nothing I can't handle."

She was already hovering over his shoulder and getting an eyeful. " _Circuits?_   That's a little basic for an Engineering major..." She gave him a look of hinted concern, "don'tcha think?"

"It's not like a series or parallel circuit. It involves the accurate splicing of--" he halted his words, "Wait, why am I even telling you this?" Wesley leaned towards the desk as he gave the blank template another look. "I'm  _never_  going to pass..." His face fell into his hands.

"Chill with the melodrama, dude." Helen leaned onto the desk and gestured at the screen, "Just put in what you put in last time an--

"But it didn't _work_ last time!"

She recoiled from the sudden bark with hands in easy view, " _Woah,_ Seabiscuit..." She was quick to regain composure at a safer distance. "I'm sure you know that failure is always an option in science--Engineering or otherwise. It's obvious you're putting in something that doesn't add up in the end. Ergo all the error messages."

"Engineering isn't actually my major. Command is." Wesley felt himself deflate at that.

"It's not my major either," Helen cautiously sloped back down towards his workstation. "But as an aspiring astrophysicist, I kinda have to know about these things...even if it's not on a level of mastery."

He gave her a glance of consideration, "Are you really related to Admiral Kirk?" His finger nonchalantly pressed the input history button as his eyes remained on her.

She averted her gaze in a rare submission, "Yes...yes, I am. Despite all my sarcasm and lack of tact," her eyes glazed over in sobriety, "we're related."

Wesley couldn't help feeling pity towards the girl. His lips pursed together momentarily before allowing her presence to fully enter his. "My input history is on the screen, maybe you'll catch my mistake."

Helen's look of pleasant surprise swiftly shifted into one of focus. She began to scroll down the list of input and picked up his PADD to read the instructions. Giving it and the other screen another look she spoke rather matter-of-factly, "Your resistance is too low."

Wesley sprung up in his seat, "My _what?"_ He gave the screens and the girl a frantic look.

"Your resistance. The unit with the omega sign after it? Ohms I think they're called."

He glowered, "I know what resistance is, Helen. I just don't know where your reasoning is coming from."

"A place of pure and honest virtues, I assure you." She returned her gaze onto the main screen, "Anyway, you're letting too much power through your current. I'm not the best at this, but watch."

The girl punched in numbers that were similar to his except when it came to the Ohms. When she tested the simulated circuit the screen showed it to be partially successful.

"How did you..." Wesley was on the edge of his seat in awe.

Helen grumbled at her slight miscalculation, _"Dammit_ , I wish I could be exact about these things." She glanced at the impressed boy, "You should adjust it so the current is more efficient. Other than that," her focus averted at the sudden realization of praise, "you should be in the clear."

Wesley gave her a toothy grin. "Oh my God, _thank you!"_   He suddenly embraced her with reputable force, "You're a lifesaver!"

More stunned by the contact than the loss of oxygen, Helen was hesitant to return the hug. "Heh, it's no big deal really..." She hated how uncomfortable she felt while fighting the urge to completely wrap her arms around the taller's waist. "Just applying what I've learned like I'm supposed to..."

Wesley was the first to break the embrace but Helen was not far behind with a tentative recoil of her own. His hands remained on her shoulders as he sustained his beam. Her look of uncomfortable pleasure caused his hands to slightly slide down to her elbows and eventually back to his side of the fence.

"Um, thanks again Helen. Sorry for getting all...you know.." His blush was a mixture of embarrassment and excitement as his sentence trailed off.

Her giggle was the most surprisingly pleasant thing he had ever heard, _"Wes,_ it’s okay. Really it is.” She gave him a look of reflection, “Is it okay to call you Wes?”

He nodded.

"Okay, _Wes_. You know believe it or not I'm not actually as vile as I'm all cracked up to be." Helen smiled and placed a kind hand near his shoulder, "But I guess even the most benevolent things were once irrationally feared."

"Yeah, I guess so." The guilt of ostracizing her for so long began to bubble up inside him.

As her hand returned to her side, Helen appeared to remember something. "Aw, _man!"_ Her hand hit her forehead and she quickly began the search for something in her backpack. While pulling out a PADD and engaging it from sleep mode, she let out an overwhelmed sigh. " _Ugh._ This quadratic stuff will be the end of me; I swear..."

She placed the tablet onto the desk and let her hand attempt to rub the exasperation out of her face. Helen was quick to storm off a few paces away as some kind of anxiety seemed to eat at her.

Wesley gave her a fleeting glance as he engaged the PADD before it could fall back into sleep mode. He couldn't put his finger on the formula's exact function, but there was an obvious use of quadratics. "I think I can help you with this." He looked towards the girl who was practically huddling in the corner.

Helen was impish on turning around. Her russet eyes fell onto his with an imploring angst. "You think so?"

Wesley gave a comforting smile, "Yeah," he looked towards the tablet once more and nodded, "Yeah, this doesn't look too out of reach for me." The boy motioned her closer as he logged off the database. Once back at his side, she was allowed to take his seat.

Helen bit her lip as her hands hovered over the screen, "Are you sure you're willing to help me?" She muttered to herself, "I mean..I’m kinda supposed to be able to do this in my sleep.” She swiveled her chair and looked up at him with apprehension,”This isn't like the homework you get..."

He wrapped one arm across the width of the chair and turned her back around while leaning in past her right shoulder. As he clicked the login command he shot her a confident look. "Just log in and I'll help where I can."

Helen entered her information with a lingering sense of skepticism. "You know you don't _have_ to help me, Wesley..."

_Welcome back to Memory Alpha, Ms. Kirk. How may I be of assistance?_

The computer prompted her most used applications with thumbnails in a three by five format. Helen pressed the one needed for the current project and gave a shaky breath at the empty parts of the formula.

Wesley used the arm that was nearly draped over her shoulders to give her a reassuring squeeze. "Hey...You helped me on my impossible task so the least I can do is return the favor, right?"

She was still far from assured, "Uh, sure. Politesse does dictate that kind of thing..."

The two teens then began mulling over, squabbling, and eventually foiling the equation to completion with their sanity miraculously still intact.

"And to show your work," Wesley punched in a command where it showed how both had written down attempts and reasons why it didn't work. He smiled at how flawless it all looked in the end. "I believe this quadratic has been foiled, Helen." He eagerly observed her taking it all in.

 _"Yeah_ ," Helen gave a huff of relief and assurance, "Yeah I think it has, Wes." Her gaze fell onto him and was brimming of genuine happiness. "You really got me out of that jam..." Wesley couldn't tell if her face flushed from gratitude or something else entirely. The way her eyes crinkled and teeth sparkled caught the main of his focus. "Thanks, Wesley. I really mean that."

He couldn't stifle a smile of his own, "No problem. I'm just glad I could help."

She gave him a playful shove that nearly caught him off guard. “Don’t push it, Crusher.” With him unintentionally giving adequate space between them, Helen was able to stand up from her chair with amusement.

Wesley’s chuckle came off more nervous than accepting, “Heh, good arm.” He was quick to regain his posture.

She was nearly preoccupied with sending off her completed assignment to the Academy. “I like to keep my brain and brawn at equilibrium,” she looked up from the PADD now in sleep mode, “Must be an internalized Newton-complex or something.”

Wesley smiled and couldn’t help wondering about the time. “Hey what time is it?”

Helen engaged her PADD and was surprised at the result, “It’s already a quarter past two…” She quickly packed up her backpack and threw it over her shoulder, “I should really get going. Uh, thanks again for your help.” With a curt nod she was well on her way to the Turbolift.

Wesley’s feet sent him after her but stopped at the realization of consciousness. “Ha-Have you had lunch?”

Helen stopped mid-stride, "Um, no actually.” She stabilized her posture, “I haven’t even eaten breakfast today,” she turned to face him, “Riker knows better not to wake me before noon.”

“Riker? As in  _Commander_ Riker?” His eyes widened at the idea.

She took a precarious grasp of the handle over her shoulder and chuckled. “Do you _know_   another Riker? I mean I’m all ears if there’s more than one of 'em on this ship.”

“No, I...He’s the only one I know about.” His gaze averted at the lack of conversational competence. He quickly met her eyes, “How can you two--

“Know each other? Be friends?” Helen intervened with sentence stems. The smirk plastered on her face seemed to be one of habit, “Believe me, I knew more about him back when we first met than I do now. Don’t feel slighted.”

“I had no idea…” it was nearly impossible for Wesley to grasp the idea of the idealistic First Officer ever associating with the sarcastic burn-out. He found it hard to look at her, “He never told me that you and him were…”

Helen looked at her forearm where a wristwatch should’ve been. She quickly amended herself and spoke with unnecessary haste, “Listen, I’d love to play Clue with you and all but I really gotta get going. Places to see, people to be, y’know?”

“Um, okay I--

_GLEURGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH_

Helen placed a hand over her abdomen, “ _Jeez_ …” she glared down her chest, “You got something to add, small intestine?” She looked up to a complexed Wesley and quickly sprung her hand back to her side. “Heh..”

Wesley couldn’t conjure up a comment and settled with a considering nod.

She was prickly with her next inquiry, “Are you...are you opposed to lunch?” Helen quickly shook her head and clarified, “Do you wanna get lunch to… _together?”_

Wesley would be hitting himself later for staring at her so typically incoherent. He shrugged and nodded until the English language returned to him. “Sure. I’m not opposed to it.”

Helen motioned him with a tilt of the head, “Come on then, before they run out.” She started towards the Turbolift and threw a command from behind, “And don’t forget to clear out the cache! The _Vulcans_ might turn on you if you do.” She twiddled her fingers towards a nearby Surak who didn’t hesitate to glower.

Wesley quickly did as she said and ran after her, “You know the food doesn’t run out, right?”

She stopped and turned to look at him in front of open Turbolift doors. “If only my ancestors were so lucky…” With a quick beam and his responding eye-roll both entered the lift and made their exit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there. Told you I'll be talking to you again.
> 
> So yeah, I totally went there with the medicinal cannabis. Don't worry, it's going to stay as nonchalant and unpolitical as someone taking insulin.  
> (Unless you actually consider someone mentioning diabetus to be a political statement)  
> I just honestly think if they can have transporters and Warp speed that they can create some hope from dope. But whatever I'm stupid. 
> 
> Anyway, just wanna let you know that the chances of this story being split into multiple stories are still present. You'll get more insight on why in future chapters (hahhaha shameless foreshadowing! word to your mother)
> 
> So yeah until next time review and Kudos or whatever. I kinda get off to those kind of things
> 
> -MFH 
> 
> P.S. I have a tendency to proofread my work to death so if you come back to this or any other chapter and see changes don't freak out. The modifications are usually cosmetic and don't drastically shift the plot or anything. But if they do I'll give you a heads up.


End file.
